


My Treat

by JoMouse



Series: Sterek Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Bachelorette Party, Don't copy to another site, Drunk Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Sterek Bingo, Sterek Bingo 2020, Stripper Derek Hale, sbneighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles has a teeny crush on his mysterious next-door neighbor. One night he finds out what he does for a living and that the crush might not be one-sided.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Sterek Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737445
Comments: 20
Kudos: 203





	My Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations.
> 
> I hope everyone is having a good day/week/month. I'm still struggling to finish stories for Bingo, but I'm not giving up hope.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this - it's probably about as racy as I can comfortably get with a deadline.
> 
> Big thanks to [Marie](HTTP://quietzap.tumblr.com) for betaing and cheering me on! You rock, m'dear!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles let himself out of his apartment, messenger bag thrown over one shoulder. He had his lunch bag clutched in one hand along with his keys and a stack of envelopes he had promised his roommate he would mail in the other. The door closed behind him and he struggled to test the knob to be sure it was locked, dropping his keys in the process.

“Well, fuck,” he muttered as the door across the hall opened and his neighbor stepped out dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top. He looked up and smiled at the man who shook his head and reached down to pick up Stiles’ keys, slipping them into the outside pocket of his messenger bag before continuing down the hall and into the stairwell while Stiles watched him go before cursing again because he was running late and the elevator had just opened on their floor.

Stiles made his way to the bus stop, mind still on his neighbor. The man had moved into the apartment across the hall about a month before and seemed to leave at the same time Stiles did every morning to go for a run. He’d only seen the man come back one time and that was after a night out with Scott as Stiles stumbled his way to the door of his apartment after an Uber ride home and dropped his keys three different times. His handsome neighbor had appeared next to him in tight black jeans and a maroon sweater with thumbholes and picked up his keys to unlock his door.

“Drink some water,” he’d told Stiles, voice softer than he would’ve expected from someone who looked so rough around the edges and it had taken everything in him to manage a thank you before the neighbor was gone. 

He still had no idea what the man’s name was, but he spent a lot of time thinking about him, wondering what he did when he wasn’t home and what types of movies and food he liked. He’d been tempted to knock on his door the next day and ask him for coffee, but managed to chicken out before he could, using his hangover as an excuse.

So, their relationship consisted of nods, smiles and the occasional helping hand with very few words. He didn’t usually have a hard time talking to people, but something about his neighbor kept him from speaking up. His general nervousness around him and the fact his life is suddenly full of wedding planning for his best friend, Lydia, and he’d resigned himself to the non-relationship he had with the man.

He spent his day at work helping fix computers throughout the building, rolling his eyes when he caught the cougar on the fifth floor checking out his ass. Between calls, he was on the phone with Lydia finalizing plans for her bachelorette party that night because she didn’t trust him to plan it despite trusting him enough to choose him to be her Man of Honor.

As soon as he punches out, he rushes to the bus so he has time to change into the outfit Lydia insisted he wear to the party so he could be ready when Lydia arrived with the limo to start the pub crawl; he’d suggested a party bus but had been vetoed. He’s pushing through the door of his apartment when he hears the door behind him open. He glances over his shoulder, surprised to see his neighbor leaving with a duffle bag over his shoulder, his hair styled and if he squints, a hint of eyeliner around his eyes. He knows he’s gaping when the man looks at him with a grin and wink before heading away down the hall.

Stiles stood in his doorway, stunned and trying to memorize what he had just seen, until his phone buzzed in his pocket and  _ Pretty Woman _ by Roy Orbison started blaring. “Hey, Lydia. I just got home-”

“You have exactly ten minutes until I’m in front of your building,” she snapped and he could hear the sound of her other friends already giggling and he wondered how early the girls had started their drinking. At least none of them would be driving.

He was pulling off his tie as he raced into the bedroom and hurried to slide into his black skinny jeans and soft grey button-up. He ran some gel through his hair hoping the spikes were artful enough to pass Lydia’s inspection. He was just finishing tying the laces on his boots when his phone went off again and he grabbed his wallet and raced out the door.

He skidded to a stop when he spotted the black party bus parked in front of the building, Lydia grinning at him from the steps. “Surprise,” she called out to him as her best friend and another bridesmaid, Allison, peeked over her shoulder, grinning. 

“It’s your bachelorette party,” Stiles said, grabbing the handle and swinging himself up onto the step in front of Lydia, ducking his head to press a kiss to her cheek before giving Allison a high five and glancing into the bus to see he really was the only guy on their night out, but he was used to it. 

He’d been relieved when Lydia had vetoed anything penis-shaped for party favors before declaring a ban on party favors and games altogether. Tonight was about drinking and hanging out but he still reached into his bag and pulled out the tiara and veil combo that declared Lydia the bride and slipped it carefully over her curls, laughing at the mock glare she gave him.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Stiles shouted, laughing at the cheers coming from the women and making his way to the seat along the back and falling into it with Lydia. A round of jello shots were passed out and he took four of them, downing them quickly and letting out a shout when he was done. The neon lights were bright and the music loud and Stiles jumped up to grab the pole in the middle and made a fool of himself, but it was worth it to hear the girls laughing.

The bus came to a stop, but the music continued so Stiles kept up his spastic version of a pole dance, freezing when someone whispered in his ear, “Why don’t you leave that to the professionals?” 

Turning slowly, Stiles gaped at his neighbor who looked much as he had when he’d left the apartment except for the addition of some silver glitter on his cheekbones. If he’d been in his right mind, he would’ve taken some joy in the fact that his neighbor looked just as stunned as he felt.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Allison grabbed him and pulled him down into the seat next to her and started up a cheer when the bus started moving again and Stiles’ neighbor grabbed the pole and did a full-body roll against it, causing Stiles to swallow heavily and wipe at his chin to be sure he wasn’t drooling. He ignored Lydia’s shove to his shoulder as the music pumping through the bus changed to a driving beat that vibrated through him and his neighbor struck a pose before dropping to his knees.

The man was only a foot away from him and Stiles swallowed hard when he made eye contact, a slight smile crossing his lips before he slid his knees apart and back together on the ground, his body rising and falling in a way that made Stiles wish he was the floor of the bus. He took a deep shaking breath as his neighbor reached out a hand and grabbed the pole, doing a complicated spin that started on his knees and ended on his heels as he made a complete rotation around the pole.

“My name’s ‘Rek because I plan to wreck a couple of hearts tonight,” he called out, smiling when the women cheered; Stiles still hadn’t had his voice. ‘Rek reached out for the bar with both hands, one low to the ground and the other higher up before raising himself parallel to the ground. He pulled his knees into his chest for a minute before pushing his legs out to full stretch and then into a midair split.

“Man, he’s flexible,” Allison whispered into Stiles’ ear and he nodded, mouth gaping as ‘Rek twisted and wrapped his legs around the bar so that he was inverted. Dropping his hands to the ground, he did a few pushups, his crotch grinding against the pole and Stiles switched from wanting to be the floor to having incredible jealousy of the brass pole.

‘Rek flipped his legs over his head and landed facing Stiles, taking a couple of skulking steps towards him before veering off at the last second and leaning into Lydia, boxing her in with his arms on the back of the bench seat she was sitting in. He moved to straddle her lap, grinding down just enough to tease but not make contact. Lydia jokingly fanned herself when ‘Rek moved one hand to reach down and pull up the edge of his black tee to reveal abs that could have been sculpted from marble and Stiles imagined how they would feel under his tongue, how they would taste. He was licking his lips when ‘Rek turned his head to the side and winked at him.

Standing up, ‘Rek pulled his shirt over his head and threw it at Allison who held it above her head, whirling it around and letting out a holler as ‘Rek ran his hands down his chest, teasing his fingers over the waistband of his too-tight jeans. He smirked as he pulled his hands away and all of the women groaned. He leaned back against the pole, lifting his hands to hold the pole gently as he slid down into a split against the ground.

Stiles coughed when black fabric smacked him in the face. He turned to glare at Allison who was laughing and hit him again with ‘Rek’s shirt. Scowling, he grabbed the shirt away from her and held it against his chest, growling when she tried to pull it back again. “Mine now,” he said, laughing until he felt someone standing over him and looked up to find ‘Rek grinning down at him with a wink before he moved past and over to Lydia who rolled her eyes when he straddled her lap, again grinding down just enough to give an impression but with no real contact. 

She was trying hard to look unaffected but the corners of her lips were twitching in a way that said she found the whole thing incredibly ridiculous. “This was you,” she mouthed at Stiles who held up his hands and shook his head madly. He would never have hired a stripper for Lydia and he definitely would’ve been booking ‘Rek for himself if he’d realized this was what his neighbor did for a living. 

He wondered if this was all that ‘Rek did because he was gone a lot of hours during the day and he didn’t think there was a very big calling for day-time stripping. He watched as he continued his dance, laughing when Lydia’s eyes drifted down from his face to his hands at the button on his waistband. She snapped her eyes back up to his face just as he undid the button and tugged at each side of the fly to slowly part the zipper revealing black satin covering a sizeable bulge that had Sitles using ‘Rek shirt to wipe the drool off his face as he imagined mouthing at that. 

Burying his face in ‘Rek’s shirt, he peeked over the edge as the pants were dropped and the satin turned out to be a satin g-string when ‘Rek turned his back to them and bent over to touch his toes before pushing up into a handstand and doing a couple pushups, flipping when the bus hit a bump, managing to make it look intentional and avoiding sprawling on the ground ungracefully like Stiles would’ve if he’d attempted the move.

As the handstand pushups turned into one-armed ones, Stiles fought the urge to bounce a quarter off the ass in front of him. That urge was only slightly easier to fight than the one to take a bite out of it and Stiles finally stood and headed towards the back of the bus and the bar loaded down with jello shots to avoid making a complete fool of himself, but he heard Lydia snicker as he walked past her, trying to surreptitiously adjust himself, clutching ‘Rek’s shirt to his chest.

He heard the music change and the cheering get louder as he took a few shots, but he kept focused on the bartop. He knew that if he turned to watch the show, especially if ‘Rek took off any more clothing, he’d never be able to look his neighbor in the eye again. After his third shot, Lydia appeared next to him, plucking the next one out of his hands and taking it herself. 

“I’ve got a better drink for you,” she said when she was done, waving a bottle of middle shelf tequila at him, but when Stiles reached for it she pulled it out of his reach and danced away. 

Stiles followed her movements with his eyes and found her standing over ‘Rek who was laid back on one of the benches. He’d put his jeans back on, but they were still unbuttoned and Stiles had to lick his lips as his eyes traced his skin up his abs to his chest and finally to his face. ‘Rek was watching him, lips twisted up in a smirk and he gave a wink. Siltes felt his cheeks burn as he turned his head away. 

“C’mon, Stiles! Take a shot!” Lydia called, tilting the bottle just short of pouring over ‘Rek’s stomach while Allison sprinkled salt on his pecs and placed a lime slice in his mouth.

Stiles took a couple of steps forward, stumbling when the bus came to a sudden stop and falling forward until he landed on his knees in front of ‘Rek. Lydia had spilled a couple of drops of tequila on him. He debated licking them when the bus driver called out the name of their first stop in the pub crawl they were doing.

“Guess that’s my cue to go,” ‘Rek said, standing up and holding a hand out to Stiles who stared at it in confusion. “My shirt?” he prompted, smirk growing and eyes sparkling. “I mean, I’d let you keep it, but the Uber drivers frown on picking me up half-dressed. I speak from experience.”

That was a story Stiles wanted to hear and opened his mouth to ask, but Lydia plucked the shirt out of his hands and pushed it at Derek before grabbing Stiles by the arm and tugging him towards the door of the bus. “His number is 415-555-0124,” she called over her shoulder and before Stiles could squawk in protest, he was off the bus and being pushed towards the door of the upscale club, bypassing the line when Lydia winked at the doorman who shook his head and pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they passed.

“I hate you,” he said to her before his voice was lost in the noise of the club and he glared as she walked away, head thrown back in laughter.

The sun was just starting to come up over the horizon as Stile stumbled off the bus in front of his building. He narrowed his eyes at the door as he tried to find the right key to let himself in, dropping the keyring twice before giving up and dropping down to the steps next to the door to wait for someone to come in or out and open the door for him.

He must’ve passed out because the next thing he knew, his senses were overwhelmed with the strong aroma of French roast and his stomach rolled when he opened his eyes and blinked against the blinding sun. His retinas were rescued a moment later when a shadow stepped between him and the evil fireball, waving the source of the delicious smell closer to his nose. 

Stiles reached out to take the mug of coffee and held it to his face, inhaling deeply before taking a deep drink, cursing when he burned his tongue. A chuckle drew his attention from the pain to the shadow that moved enough to reveal his saviour as his ridiculously hot neighbor. “‘Rek,” he said, voice grumbly and stomach still unsteady.

“Derek, actually,” he corrected, holding a hand out. “Need some help getting inside?”

“Yes, actually,” Stiles admitted, putting a hand in Derek’s and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He flinched when Derek made a face, probably from his breath. 

“Are you still drunk?” he asked, moving one hand to Stiles’ bicep and using his other hand to unlock the door to their building. He didn’t let go as they made their way up the stairs and even took Stiles’ keys to unlock his apartment. “Do you need anything else?” 

He finally released his arm and stood in the doorway, looking somewhere over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles put down his coffee cup on the small table he kept next to the door before he held onto it trying to toe off his shoes.

“Need? No,” Stiles said, trying to smirk but feeling it fall flat when Derek nodded and turned away. “But I  _ want _ you to stay.” He reached out to grab Derek’s arm and missed, stumbling and falling into him and he had to argue with his still slightly drunk brain to keep from groping him. His head spun and he moved backwards, hitting the wall and sliding down it to sit on the floor, closing his eyes and hating himself for drinking as much as he had the night before.

He heard keys clinking onto the hook by the door and the swish of the door against the rug before it closed quietly. He kept his eyes closed until he smelled coffee again and peeked through one eye and saw Derek squatted down in front of him, holding out the mug again. He reached up to take it, smiling. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he told him, settling down to sit across from him.

Silence stretched between them as Stiles sipped his coffee. If he’d been in a normal state, he would’ve been babbling or at least ribbing Derek about his job, but he could barely put together enough brain cells to remember to swallow as he drank. He swallowed down the last drop of coffee, setting the mug on the floor next to him.

“So...your friend Lydia seems nice,” Derek said, breaking the silence.

“She’s amazing,” Stiles said, smiling. “I was surprised she hired a stripper for her bachelorette party though.” His eyes flew open. “Not that there’s anything wrong with strippers.”

Derek chuckled. “I didn’t take offense, don’t worry. It’s just one of my jobs and I don’t do it as much as I used to.”

“What else do you do?” This was the longest conversation they’d ever had and Stiles found himself giving into the curiosity he’d been carrying around since the first time he’d seen Derek.

“Prostitute,” he responded with a straight face and Stiles gaped.

“Well, that’s supposed to be really good money,” Stiles responded, speaking slowly as he forced the words to sound as casual as possible and failing miserably.

“I’m kidding,” Derek said, laughing when Stiles let out a huge breath. “I’m a mechanic at my Uncle’s garage.”

“That’s awesome. I love working on my Jeep but it’s mostly just duct tape and prayers at this point,” he said. 

“I’ve heard your Jeep. I could probably take a look at it if you want.” Derek stood up and held out a hand. Stiles hesitated before taking it and allowing himself to be pulled up to stand, wavering on his feet as the room spun around him for a second. “Want more coffee?” he asked as he led Stiles over to his couch.

“I’m good, I think,” Stiles told him, laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket off the back over himself. “I should probably sleep.”

“Yeah, of course,” Derek said. “I’ll just let myself out.” 

Stiles looked up at him through squinted eyes, noting the slight slump of his shoulders as he headed towards the door. “Hey, dude,” he called out just as he exited his field of vision. He reappeared a second later, leaning backward, one arm outstretched like he was holding onto the wall. “Sorry I’m such a loss right now, but I really want to get to know you. Wanna grab dinner later?”

His face eased into a smile as he nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Stiles said. “My treat.” 

His eyes drifted shut and then flew open again when he heard the floor creak near his head. Derek was kneeling in front of the couch, ‘Rek’s smile on Derek’s face as he leaned forward to breathe into Stiles’ ear. “Then after dinner, we can finish that shot from earlier and it’ll be  _ my _ treat.”

Stiles’ mouth opened and closed a few times but no words escaped as Derek rose, giving him a wink and disappearing out of the room with a little extra swagger to his step. The door to Stiles’ apartment opened and closed and he smiled to himself as he allowed himself to finally drift off to sleep, mind on dinner later that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr! I'm josjournal over there!


End file.
